


caught in the act (the difference between his and her hands)

by WattStalf



Series: cos your love's got the best of me (baby, you're making a fool of me) [38]
Category: Baccano!
Genre: Asphyxiation, Breathplay, F/M, Kinktober 2016, Lua has some violent fantasies and their general relationship dynamic is at play, Masturbation, PWP, Vaginal Sex, lots of warnings for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WattStalf/pseuds/WattStalf
Summary: Lua, Lua, Lua, what's going on in here? I come home and find you trying to do my job for me? No, no, no, that just won't do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I had to write about them for Day Nine of Kinktober, the prompt being asphyxiation. They are a mess as always and fun as always.

Alone, Lua thinks about him; even when he isn't there and the room feels so empty, she can fill it with thoughts of him. He has that sort of strong personality, the sort that can fill a room he doesn't occupy, with just a memory. She knows that he will be coming home to her soon, but that doesn't matter to her, because right now, she misses him, and right now, she doesn't feel like playing at being patient. Right now, she misses him in a way that she can at least attempt to cure with her own hand, even if it will never be quite the same.

She'd been dressed for bed but she slips back out of her nightgown before laying back down, closing her eyes. For a moment, she lays still with both arms down at her sides and imagines herself on a cold table. She holds her breath and she just _pretends_ , but after a moment, the heat in her grows too intense and she fidgets. It's no longer possible to pretend she is cold herself, or to hold still. There are other fantasies she can rely on, however.

She lays a finger at the bottom of her stomach and trails it all the way up, veering off to one side and then coming back across the other- a Y-shape.  _If only_ , she thinks, but it isn't time yet, and she knows that. She imagines Ladd tracing that shape, however, and she imagines what he would say and how he would scold her for being impatient if he noticed her getting too excited. Sometimes, she almost thinks he doesn't  _want_ to do it, he's such a tease, but then she remembers that he's promised her. Ladd would never break his promise and she knows it.

There are things she wants him to do to her that she's never dared to ask, and that even he has not been able to figure out. She still has her secrets, even after all this time together. He has no qualms about squeezing her throat until she's nearly unconscious- a few times, he's pushed her even past that point, and each time, she came to to find him panicked and desperate- and he's even cut her a few times, but she doubts he would ever go any further in terms of hurting her.

He wouldn't, for instance, let her feel just how much one of his punches really hurts or test to see how easily he could knock her out. Ladd would never dream of breaking her nose with a hard right cross, but damned if that thought doesn't thrill her more than she can possibly say. Imagining the pain and the sound of it breaking and the feeling of warm blood spilling under her nose and onto her lips, and Ladd licking it away and kissing her so that she can taste it on his tongue...

Already, she's stroking her clit, her breathing coming in soft, erratic gasps. He won't punch her, no, and he won't ever burn her, or perhaps shoot her somewhere nonlethal, or even shove her face first into something hard, maybe something glass so it can shatter all around her. Ladd will never hurt her in these ways, but she has her imagination when she's alone, and she arches her back, her head falling back and finally, she brings a hand to her throat.

Ladd will do this, she knows; he will always do this if she asks, and he will do it of his own accord, and she will always love it. She isn't able to squeeze her throat tight enough to really cut off her air, and she's known this since she was a child. Even so, she clutches her throat in her hand and squeezes, squeezes,  _squeezes_ and tries to pretend that it's Ladd's hand even those hers is so tiny and fragile in comparison. She is like this when he finds her.

Even though he thinks that he can sneak up on her, he can't. She can always tell when he's coming even when he thinks he's being quiet, and tonight is no exception. However, she doesn't do anything to indicate that she hears him, and even acts surprised when she feels his hand swat hers away and close around her neck, when he pulls her other hand to the side and replaces it, fingering her, when he leans in and murmurs, “Lua, Lua,  _Lua_ , what's going on in here? I come home and find you trying to do my job for me? No, no, no, that just won't  _do_ !”

He isn't mad at her; he's never mad at her, and she's pretty sure there's nothing she could do to make him at her. When she opens her eyes, he's grinning at her, fierce and terrifying and beautiful, and she whimpers for him. She's never been _scared_ of him, but she knows he's scary, she knows that she would be if she were anybody else, but she's her and she loves him, and he is everything she could ever want.

His grip is so much more powerful than hers, and already she can't breathe while he just keeps grinning at her like there's no place in the world he'd rather be. “If you wanted this, my little angel, you could have waited for me, don't you know that? Oh, Lua, I'm always telling you that you have to be more patient but you _never learn_ , do you? Do you, Lua?”

A faint smile tugs at her lips as her body tries to force her to breathe, struggling against her own will and his. When he sees her smile, his own grows, and he squeezes her tighter. “That's right, that's right, that's _right_ , you can't exactly answer me right now, can you?” he asks. “Do you want me to loosen up? Do you want me to let you talk to me? Do you?”

Weakly, she shakes her head and he lets out the obnoxious, abrasive laugh that she's come to love so much. “Of course you don't! This is exactly what you were after, isn't it, dollface? And you _wanted_ it to be me, right, it's just I was gone and you were so lonely, you couldn't help yourself? Well, I can forgive that, I can forgive you for that because you're still alive and still mine for the taking and that's _all- that- really- matters_.” He punctuates each words with a tightening of his grip, until her vision starts to blur and she hopes that this time, he will send her under.

It's close, she's so close, and he's still talking to her but she can't tell what he's saying, and he's the only thing left in her field of vision until he's gone, he's fading away too, and she loves him so much and she's the happiest woman in the world, she just knows it. The last thing she tries to do is give him a real smile, but she feels disconnected from her own body so she isn't sure if it works, if he sees it or not and then- and then- and then he lets up. Just like always, he lets up, because Ladd isn't ready, and she wants to be disappointed but the rush of air into her lungs is accompanied by all the tension she built dissipating, and the shuddering pulses that wrack her frame as she come are enough to take her breath away again.

It's entirely possible she could suffocate this way, or at least she likes to think it is, whether that's actually accurate or not, but she doesn't. She breathes, in and out because her body makes her, and she survives at least another day. Another day with Ladd, another day of anticipation and distraction, and really, she thinks, she doesn't have it so bad at all. In fact, she thinks, she has everything she could ever want. She loves her life, she really does.

“You must have missed me a lot,” he says. “Well, you know, angel, I missed you too, I missed you a lot, maybe even more!”

 


End file.
